


A Broken Boy

by honeymoan



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Bottom Harry, Bottom Louis, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mentions of Rape, Riding, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts, Top Harry, Top Louis
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-29
Updated: 2015-06-30
Packaged: 2018-04-06 19:20:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4233654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeymoan/pseuds/honeymoan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To hear a statement every day in a relationship can be so fantastic. It can make you go all bubbly on the inside and you just feel like you’d be able to smile for the rest of your life. In other cases, it’s just strange. You look down on the floor, feel this turning feeling in your stomach and you just pout slightly. None of them are Louis’ cases because he goes all stiff instead. All memories fly through his head and anger rises itself on the inside, tears even burning in his eyes. Louis knows that ‘you're beautiful’ is the biggest lie. He’s always known that he isn’t beautiful. He was perhaps looking okay before, but now, no, he doesn’t. He’s ugly, can’t even stand to see himself in a mirror, he can’t go out from his flat, even less go to school because he knows that people will stare at him, because he’s so ugly. They will look at him with disgust.</p><p>[Or; the one in which Louis doesn’t know that he’s beautiful. Harry shows him. They fall in love.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I found this work in my draft on Wattpad and I decided to edit it and then upload it here instead. This work contains self-harm, suicidal thoughts along with self confidence issues. It has also mentions of non-con/rape. There will be some smut as well, but not in the beginning. Read at your own risk. (Also, if there are any mistakes, I’m sorry. I’m from Sweden and at the moment I’m only 14 years old. I hope my English will satisfy you anyway.)
> 
> Twitter: @gleefulwt

Louis shakes his head, because no, he’s not agreeing. Charlie is not choosing the right words and it honestly pisses Louis off so much, not more than it pisses Charlie off, though. Louis closes his eyes for a second, lets his lungs fill with fresh air, to calm his nerves, because Charlie needs to stop. Charlie needs to stop lying because Louis is so sick of listening to all his lies. He’s so tired that this always happens. It happened with John, Ray, Nicholas and now even with Charlie. Charlie tells him this stupid lie every day, every single day and it makes Louis want to rip his ears off. He can’t hear this lie anymore, he doesn’t want to. He wants the whole world to just shut up, don’t talk to him, let him be so he can grow old all by himself.  
  
Louis lies down, his back facing Charlie in the dark bedroom and he slowly closes his eyes again, his nerves now a bit cooler. Charlie lets a frustrated sigh leave his fit body, his perfect body, Louis thinks, but doesn’t let the comment leave his mouth.  
  
The room gets completely silent, the only sound is their slow breathing. Louis’ back is still facing Charlie, he just can’t turn around. He won’t turn around, because he’s not ready.  
  
It’s half a year later when Louis stands in his apartment, all alone. He has nothing left. Charlie had left him, the freezing Tuesday in December was the last day he heard the lie leave Charlie’s mouth. Louis had scoffed, then stared deep into Charlie’s brown eyes and told him to stop lying about Louis. He was so angry that he just wanted to crash the mirror behind him when they stood face to face in their shared bedroom. Then Charlie lost it, Louis remembers the exact words that were thrown in is own angry face.  
  
_“You need to fucking stop, Louis!”_ Louis had never heard Charlie yell before, but he was full on yelling then, _“You know what? I can’t fucking do this anymore! I’ve let you in so many times. I’ve given you my entire fucking soul, Louis, but you don’t give a shit back to me! You know every little thing about me! Everything! You know that when I was ten I accidentally peed my pants in class! You know that when I was 14 a guy in my class caught me checking his bum out! You know so much about me, Louis. But you don’t give me anything back. We’ve been together in half a year and I barely know your middle name! Why’re you so afraid to open up, Louis? Why can’t you accept that I like you? I like you so much and I think you’re so fucking beautiful, but you always, I mean always, refuse to believe me! I tell you that you’re beautiful, because you are, Louis! You’re fucking flawless, but you just leave me all alone with a bitchy comment. Don’t you get it that I get sad as well? I want this to work! But Louis, I’m so tired of you always leaving me all alone when I just try to be nice! It’s like you don’t even want to be with me!”_  
  
Charlie’s face was red and he was crying when he had finished, but Louis couldn’t stop himself. He’d screamed louder than Charlie did, told him that nobody was forcing him to stay with Louis. He screamed that Charlie can just go, because Louis wouldn’t give a fuck about it. He screamed that it was over, there never was anything between them. He screamed that it was over, that it would never be anything between them, because he never even liked Charlie.  
  
Charlie ran out from the room, he ran to the bedroom, grabbed his clothes and most important stuff and then he just left. He didn’t say anything more, he just ran out from the apartment and that was when Louis realised that he had fucked everything up again.  
  
Half a year later and he’s still mopping around in his apartment. The apartment the couple used to share. He’s so alone, the only company he has is the all the sad faces he’s painted on white sheets. The faces are all red, because red is the only colour Louis uses. It makes it feel more like his inside. His bleeding inside, which actually hurts. It feels like he’s breaking and the blood on his inside frees itself and then finds its places on the big sheets. They dry and left is sad faces. The sad faces which were crying on his inside.  
  
One year has passed since everything with Charlie happened. Louis doesn’t think much about Charlie anymore. He hardly lets his thoughts even touch the folder named ‘Charlie’ in his messed up brain. Louis has bigger problems. He has bigger stuff to worry about, even though they’re from the past now as well.  
  
Louis can’t attend school and it makes Zayn and Niall worry their asses off. They call and call and call once again just to beg Louis to talk to them, tell them what’s wrong, but Louis can’t. He listens to their worried and ruined voices when they’ve put Niall’s phone on speaker, but Louis doesn’t find it in himself to blame himself and feel sad that it’s actually his fault that they’re sad and worried. He can’t feel sad, because this big cloud of numbness is almost exploding his tired body.  
  
It’s one day Zayn and Niall come knocking on his door. He opens it and is soon stuck in Zayn’s and Niall’s arms. They’re crying silently against his shoulder, asking him what’s wrong, but Louis just stands there, arms hanging by his sides, while he stares at the wall. That night when he presses the blade to his thigh, he can actually bring himself to feel a bit guilty.  
  
To hear a statement every day in a relationship can be so fantastic. It can make you go all bubbly on the inside and you just feel like you’d be able to smile for the rest of your life. In other cases, it’s just strange. You look down on the floor, feel this turning feeling in your stomach and you just pout slightly. None of them are Louis’ cases because he goes all stiff instead. All memories fly through his head and anger rises itself on the inside, tears even burning in his eyes. Louis knows that ‘you're beautiful’ is the biggest lie. He’s always known that he isn’t beautiful. He was perhaps looking okay before, but now, no, he doesn’t. He’s ugly, can’t even stand to see himself in a mirror, he can’t go out from his flat, even less go to school because he knows that people will stare at him, because he’s so ugly. They will look at him with disgust.  
  
Louis’ brain says this, it has always done, and Louis knows that it’s so true.  
  
What happened three weeks ago is something that makes him feel more than the tiny word ugly. He feels so fucking disgusted with himself that he cuts his thighs. Small, but bleeding wounds. But it’s his own fault. Everything is his own fault.

He’s just a broken boy in the crowd full of beautiful people.  
 


	2. Red (1)

The sun shone through the curtains when the clock reached 6AM. Louis sat up in his bed and rubbed his tired eyes. It was Friday, which meant that it was finally becoming weekend again. Louis had only been in school Monday and Wednesday, the other days he skipped because it was impossible to even try to get his bloodshot eyes, blue again.

Louis got up from the bed, his body quickly reacted to the change of temperature so he shivered and wrapped his small arms around his freezing frame. He rushed past the mirror on the wall, which he so many times had thought of taking down, because honestly, the mirror didn’t make him feel much better.

Louis slowly opened the doors to his closet and picked out a pair of black jeans from Levis. He took a white t-shirt and then moved to the shelf where all his hoodies were lying in a mess. After throwing half of the hoodies out on the floor, he decided to take a dark blue Hollister one, one of his favourites. Louis had always been a person who cared about what he was wearing. He found it difficult to wear sweatpants and a dirty white t-shirt to school. He wanted to look good, even though he knew that it was almost impossible because of what could be found under.

When Louis had put his clothes on (icluding a pair of new boxers and white socks), he made his way to the bathroom. 

Louis never ate breakfast. 

He never felt hungry in the mornings and when you’ve once stopped eating, there’s no turning back. Louis didn’t mind that much really, he knew that he had to lose weight and skipping breakfast had always been a good alternative.

With the light turned on he soon found himself standing in front of the big mirror over the sink. The bathroom wasn’t really big, just a shower, a sink and of course, a toilet. Louis took in his features in the mirror and the sight really made him ready to cry, as all the other mornings. His eyes were blood red, big, grey bags hanging under them. Lines from the tears he shed in his sleep were visible and his lip was completely ruined from when Louis probably had bitten it in his sleep. His hair was a mess, sticking in every direction and all those things mashed together, were enough to make Louis fall down on the floor, crying. He didn’t even know why he was crying anymore. He should be used to this by now, after crying every night and every day in over one year, he had lost count on how long it had been. But he was still hurting, he was hurting so much that he didn’t even know what to do with himself. Sure, a razor blade across a vein in his thigh was a release, but it wasn’t good enough. It didn’t make the hatred he had towards himself go away, no, it made it even worse. Every day in some kinda way, he had to face the cuts on his thighs. It was like his broken inside was crawling out from his skin and then finding its places on his ugly outside, laughing and teasing him because he wasn’t good or strong enough to stand up straight and brush them off. But Louis knew, that even if he would try to brush them off, they’d leave scars so he didn’t more than ignore the stinging wounds on his thighs, caused by himself. He slowly got up from the cold floor again, his body shaking together with the intense sobs. His lips were trembling and he really felt like he was going to pass out any second. It made him even more angry and the self hatred just grew, because why? Why wasn’t he used to this by now? Why couldn’t his stupid brain just understand that this was reality and something he would have to go through for forever?

Louis took his toothbrush with his shaking hand, then he grabbed the toothpaste and rinsed the toothbrush. He brought it to his mouth after putting some toothpaste on it, his eyes never leaving his own in the mirror. He looked himself in the eyes and he swore that he still could see small hints from the thing that happened over one year ago. It was still there. He was sitting all alone, naked and exposed with the bloodstained sheets in that apartment in a corner of London’s all streets. Tears were streaming down his face and he clenched his teeth to not start sobbing like a madman. He remembers everything in smallest detail. He remembers how the flies were struggling to get out from the dark and cold room, but he could only hear them. He could hear their buzzing wings when they tried to escape through the thick glass of the only, tiny window in the musty room. He sat completely still in the room, just waiting for something to happen, waiting for someone to come and save him from his nightmare. It wasn’t a nightmare though, it was reality. 

Louis sniffled and put his toothbrush back in the glass beside the soap. He wiped his eyes and then turned the lights off again before leaving the black room behind. Instead he walked in to the kitchen, picked up his phone which was charging on the counter. He clicked on the home button on his iPhone, finding it easier to start it through that way. His phone lit up with one message from Niall and one from Zayn. Louis just sighed and unlocked his phone so he now was standing on his homescreen. He clicked on the ‘messages’ icon and then decided to answer Niall first.

**From: Niall**

_hi lou. u comin 2 school today ? xxx Niall_

Louis sighed because of Niall’s spelling, but who was he to judge when he was like the only one who didn’t spell like that?

**To: Niall**

_No, Niall. I’m feeling really ill. I think I’m catching the flu again, mate. :( x_

That was obviously a lie, it was always lies whenever he talked or messaged his best friends, Zayn and Niall. It was always lies because he wouldn’t be able to tell anyone about that cold night in March over one year ago.

**From: Zayn**

_hi louis. you coming today? should me ‘n niall come and pick you up? :)_

**To: Zayn**

_I’m feeling really bad, Zaynie. :( You don’t have to pick me up, I’ll be fine at home alone. Enjoy school today. I’ll call in and tell my teachers that I’m sick._

Louis locked his phone again and decided to at least make himself a cup of tea, because he was honestly feeling pretty cold. He took out a cup from the cabinet and placed it on the counter before he took the kettle and filled it with water. He was just about to put the kettle back to let it warm the water, when his phone rang. Louis sighed and put the kettle on the counter before he grabbed his phone. A picture of Zayn was showing on the screen. Louis didn’t know if he should answer or not, but finally he decided to answer.

“Hi Zayn,” Louis faked a raspy voice, just to make it more believable that he actually was sick. He hated to lie, but that was too late to change now, since he had been lying every day in over one year.

  
_“Hi Lou. You okay?”_ Zayn asked. Louis could hear, by just listening to his voice, that he wasn’t believing Louis anymore. He wasn’t falling for this anymore, he knew that Louis wasn’t sick at all.

Louis faked a cough, “No, Zaynie. I’m feeling like shit.”

  
_“Sorry to hear that, mate,”_ Zayn said with a flat voice, no emotions in his usually bright and happy British accent, _“well, I thought that me and Niall could come over after school today. We could bring McDonalds and we could watch a movie,”_ Zayn made a pause, _“you shouldn’t be alone all the time, Lou. It’s not healthy for you.”_

Louis could hear that Zayn was upset, which only made his hatred for himself grow bigger, since he knew that it was his fault. It was Louis’ fault that Zayn was upset because he was such a fuck-up. It was Louis’ fault because he was being so selfish and so pathetic and so idiotic.

“Thanks, Zayn,” Louis said and faked another cough, “but I would prefer if none of you got sick. I’m fine by myself.” Louis smiled sadly to himself.

  
_“Well, it’s your choice,”_ Zayn sighed, _“I guess we’ll see each other on Monday then?”_

Louis nodded to himself, “Yeah,” He breathed, “say hi to Nialler from me, yeah?”

  
_“Yeah sure,”_ Zayn answered, _“bye, Louis. Get better soon. Call me if you need to.”_

And they hung up.

Louis put his phone down on the counter again and finished his tea, small tears escaping his eyes. He felt so bad for making Zayn and Niall sad and upset. He hated it so much, but he couldn’t help it. Even if he tried his hardest (which wasn’t that hard, since he was so weak and pathetic), he couldn’t stop lying. It was his own way to shield himself, his own way to stop people from finding out about that past which still haunts him today. It’ll never let him go, never let him escape. It had buried him in a cloud of dark smoke and he couldn’t see. He couldn’t get out and then we had the voices. They were laughing, laughing so much because they knew that Louis was stuck, they knew that they had him and he couldn’t get away from them. They laughed because he was just so pathetic and he was so weak and he couldn’t do anything by himself. He was worthless, and they knew it.

It was five hours later when the doorbell rang. 

Louis was sitting on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, while he watched Doctor Who on the TV. At first Louis ignored the doorbell, but when there soon were knocking sounds too, he sighed angrily and got up from the couch. The clock was half past four and Louis just had this feeling that it was either Niall or Zayn who was knocking, therefor, he was angry. He could clearly remember that he told Zayn on the phone to not come over.

Louis unlocked the door and opened it, before he had time to even see who the person was, he had already snapped, “What the fuck do you want?” With a roll of his still slightly red eyes.

But it wasn’t Zayn or Niall, or even both, because outside the door stood a young man with curly hair, eyes green as the trees in the forest twenty minutes away where Louis many times had escaped to.

“I’m sorry for showing up like this, but our teacher told me to come and give you, uhm, the books we’ve been working with in English class, lately,” The boy said with a little smile. He held out the books for Louis to take, so Louis just took them with a loud sigh.

“Yeah, you’ve left them,” Louis said, “you can go now.” Louis nodded towards the stairs, but the boy didn’t move. This boy was already getting on his nerves, even though he didn’t know him.

“I’m Harry,” The boy said and this time he held out his hand. Louis gaped slightly before he looked up at Harry, which he now knew his name was, and raised an eyebrow at the young lad.

“I didn’t ask for your name,” Louis said.

But Harry didn’t answer that, he was staring at something behind Louis. Louis got curious and turned around to look at whatever Harry was looking at. He didn’t see anything special, so he turned to Harry again and frowned.

“Have you made that painting?” Harry asked and pointed at something behind Louis. Louis turned around once again and finally his gaze found what Harry was looking at. His painting. The painting was hanging in front of one of the windows, just drying because Louis painted it two hours ago.

“Uhm, yeah,” Louis said and awkwardly sctratched his neck. He didn’t know why but he felt really uncomfortable talking about his paintings. They were really meaningful to Louis, they were showing what he was feeling on the inside. They were showing how broken he felt, just by hanging there, showing off the sad faces in the red colour. Louis was the only one who knew about his paintings. Neither Zayn or Niall knew about them. Nobody knew. But now Harry did.

“They’re really beautiful,” Harry said and continued to stare right ahead.

And that was when Louis felt like an arrow was shot through his chest because this person with brown, curly hair and green eyes, named Harry, just called his painting beautiful. He didn’t say that Louis was beautiful, didn’t judge his outside. Harry looked at the painting and actually said that Louis’ broken inside was beautiful.


	3. Towel (2)

 

 

The blood slowly dribbled down Louis’ thigh, he simply sighed and put his feet on the table in front of the couch where he currently was sitting. He let his eyes trail from his hands, which were lying in his lap, down to the bleeding wounds on his right thigh. Louis wasn’t wearing any pants, finding it pretty uncomfortable, the only thing covering his body was a white t-shirt and his black boxers. The clock was half past eight and Louis was tired, but he wasn’t in the mood to go to sleep and let the dark thoughts bury him even deeper. 

Instead he sat on the couch, his eyes not leaving the red lines on his thigh. A razor blade was lying on the table, beside his left foot. The blade was still red, simply caused by the way he let it slice his skin only five minutes ago, because honestly, it wasn’t Louis who chose to do it. The blade decided that it missed Louis’ skin and who was Louis if he was rude to it and didn’t let his thigh and the blade meet again? It was like forbidden love, just probably a tiny bit more hurtful. 

A rush of adrenaline ran through Louis’ body when he saw that loads of blood now had made its way out from his body, leaving his body forever. Louis got up on shaky legs and slowly walked to the bathroom, he could feel the blood running down his leg, probably even dripping down on the floor. He turned the light on and then he sat down on the toilet. 

Thoughts were running through his mind, making him dizzy. He grabbed the towel which was hanging on a hook beside the sink, he had to reach out a bit, but it wasn’t too hard to grab it. He put the towel on the wounds, the sixteen wounds to be more exact, it stang a bit, but it was bearable. Louis didn’t realise that he was crying before he felt the warm tears hit his shirt, he was fast to wipe them away with his free hand though, he was just so tired of crying. He was tired of everything.

When the blood had dried, he got up from the toilet and turned the light off, leaving the bloody towel on the floor. He was too tired to wash it, since he had been sitting on the toilet, waiting for the wounds to stop bleeding, in half an hour. Louis rubbed his tired eyes and went out to the living room again, but this time he put on the TV. He just needed to hear some real voices, he was just so tired of hearing his own evil voices in his head, telling him to do stupid stuff. He missed to just curl up on the couch and watch a bad romantic movie, just forgetting about his own hateful voices.

The clock was half past nine when the doorbell rang.

“Shit,” Louis murmured and grabbed his pants which were lying on the floor, in a swift motion. 

The pain of putting the tight, black pants on again, was enough to make Louis clench his eyes shut. The wounds touching the material of the jeans was horrible. Louis could already feel that they were bleeding again. He ran to the door and opened it while running a hand through his messy hair. On the other side of the door frame stood no one else but the young lad Harry.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Louis asked and let a frown take over his face. Why the hell would Harry be here at this time a Friday night? Was he drunk?

“I forgot my phone earlier,” Harry said, not letting Louis’ mean attitude get to him even a tiny bit.

“Your phone?” Louis asked and lifted an eyebrow towards Harry. Harry has to be so stupid if he forgets his phone at someone he’s just supposed to stay at for looking at their paintings.

“Yes. Yes, my phone,” Harry sighed and slightly rolled his eyes at Louis.

“Well, I guess you can come in and get it,” Louis sighed, “do you remember where you left it before?”

Harry nodded, “I think I left it in the bathroom after I accidentally touched one of the paintings which hadn’t dried and I had to wash my hands.” Clumsy little boy.

Harry just wanted to look at Louis’ panintings when he came over to leave the English books to Louis. And since Harry said they were beautiful, Louis let him to take a closer look. Big mistake, though, since Harry stumbled and accidentally touched one of the drawings, which hadn’t dried. Of course Louis got a bit angry because Harry was just so clumsy. Harry left to wash his hands while Louis cleaned up a bit.

“Okay, yeah well, don’t stand there and stare," Louis rolled his eyes, “come in and get your phone so I can go to sleep as fast as you’ve left.” 

Louis was really tired and he didn’t want anything but to just curl up in his bed and cry himself to sleep. Crying really soothed him, even though the consequence was having red eyes the next morning. 

Harry smiled a little and then walked past Louis, making his way to the bathroom. Louis remained in the hall, waiting for Harry to come back so he could push him out from the flat and then lock the door and finally go to sleep.

“Louis?” Harry shouted from the bathroom, suddenly sounding worried over something.

“What Harry?” Louis yelled back to the younger lad.

Harry came back to the hall where Louis was standing, now holding his phone in one hand and in the other hand he was carrying a towel. A bloody towel to be more exact. Louis’ bloody towel. He could suddenly feel how the blood was pumping in his veins, his heart now beating at least three times faster and his palms were sweating.

“Why do you have a bloody towel lying on the floor in your bathroom?” Harry asked and looked at Louis with an extremely worried expression.

Louis couldn’t do anything more than try to play all this off.

Louis burst out in a fit of laughter, “You, should, see, your, face!” He said between laughter.

Harry just frowned at Louis, his face turning a shed of red, from embarrassment, Louis guessed.

“Oh my God, Harry,” Louis said and tried to calm down, “you don’t have to look like you’ve seen a ghost, for fuck’s sake Harry!” Louis laughed.

“I was just being a bit clumsy and accidentally dropped a glass and then when I was going to pick it up, I accidentally cut myself because it had broken, what the fuck do you think I did?” Louis was suddenly a bit angry, now sounding serious instead of laughing.

“I– I thought–” Harry said but gulped instead.

“What?” Louis laughed with a judgemental twang, “That I cut myself or what?!” Louis was furious now because no. This wasn’t something someone should be able to find out just by finding a bloody towel on a bathroom floor. Louis felt so judged.

“I– never mind...” Harry whispered and looked down at the floor in shame.

“Well I can tell you that I do not cut myself,” Louis said with an angry voice, “I’m not a fucking weakling, Harry. Now, I hope you found your phone because you need to go.” Louis said and glared at Harry.

“I’m sorry,” Harry said before he left the flat.

It was twenty minutes later, when Louis lay in his bed, with once again a bleeding thigh, that he realised that he truly was a weakling. That only made his self hatred grow, if that even was possible anymore.


	4. Out (3)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I just wanted to let you know that all the boys are the same age, except from Harry. He’s younger. Just so you don’t get confused. I also don’t know much about the school system in the U.S. so I apologise if there are any mistakes. (And yes, they are in the U.S. in this story) I know that these chapters are really short, but I don’t want to put the entire beginning of this story in one chapter. The chapters will hopefully become a little longer once more interesting stuff happens.

The rain was pattering against the window of Louis’ bedroom as he lay in his bed, sheets hugging his ankles as he stared at the white ceiling above him. He was shivering, only clad in boxers and a black t-shirt.  
  
His thigh was bleeding. Small drops of the red liquid dribbled down and soon made the white sheet beneath him, red. But he didn’t feel it, didn’t feel the stinging of where his skin was teared open. He was so, so numb. He didn’t mind the tears which were washing down his cheeks, trying so hard to wash away the feeling of disgust lingering everywhere on his body. But it couldn’t. It could never be washed away, no one would ever be able to scrape it off, make him feel beautiful. Because he wasn’t.  
  
The room felt so small. It felt like the walls were moving, walking towards him, trying to swallow him. Suffocate him where he lay in his bed, so, so numb. It felt like the ceiling was falling down, trying to drag him with it, down in this huge, dark hole which he wouldn’t be able to get up from. He was so stuck, tied to the bed, but there was no one there to tell him that he looked beautiful. But Louis knew that he wasn’t. Never had been, never would be. He was so, so alone. Standing all alone in a moving crowd, a beautiful crowd rushing past him where he was standing in the middle. He was crying, standing there all alone. His thigh was still bleeding, he wouldn’t let it stop bleeding because it was his way of copying. He wanted the pain to run out with the blood, fall asleep in a little puddle and never wake up. God, he wanted to sleep. He wanted to sleep so bad.  
  
He closed his eyes, the stains of his tears straining when he clenched his eyes shut, but soon opened them again. He lay on his side, facing the window where the rain still was pouring down. The clouds were hanging heavily over the sky, wrapping London in sadness. Louis sighed, closed his eyes again and begged for sleep to hug his cold and numb body.  
  
Louis soon woke up by his phone buzzing on the nightstand, making a headache stir in his head, making the room turn. He looked at the clock which was just past 1PM. That meant that he hadn’t slept more than two hours and it was still Saturday. The rain had stopped though, and now he instead could hear the sounds of cars driving past the flat. He sighed and grabbed his phone without looking at who was calling.  
  
“Hello?” His voice was rough and it was obvious that he had been sleeping as he yawned.  
  
 _“Were you sleeping, did I wake you up?”_ Zayn sounded concerned as he spoke from the other line. Sometimes it could piss Louis off. Zayn was always so caring, almost a bit too much caring.  
  
“Yeah, you kinda did,” Louis snapped. He would have felt guilty if it wasn’t for the fact that Zayn already was used to his rude attitude. Louis wouldn’t really call himself rude though, he was just being himself.  
  
 _“I’m sorry, mate,”_ Zayn apologised, _“I really thought you’d be awake during now.”_  
  
“Well, I wasn’t.” Louis rolled his eyes and felt the need to actually hang up. He wanted to go back to sleep and maybe or maybe not never wake up again.  
  
Zayn ignored his attitude, _“Well, I called to say that we’re coming to pick you up at five tonight. You better be ready by then.”_  
  
Louis frowned and gaped before he started talking, “Firstly, who are ‘we’? And two, I am not going.”  
  
Zayn had always had a tendency to call out of nowhere and say that he would be coming to pick Louis up and no matter how rudely Louis tried to say no, Zayn wouldn’t give up. It was worse during the days when Louis hadn’t slept and had been staying up because of his nightmares. Those days he just wanted to stay home, but it wasn’t like Zayn would ever listen to that. Zayn knew nothing.  
  
 _“When I say ‘we’ I mean me, Niall and Liam. C’mon Lou, it’ll be fun! You can’t stay in your flat and rot away with the dust!”_ Zayn answered simply, sounding both desperate and excited.  
  
“And who the hell is Liam?” Louis had never heard about a Liam before and suddenly it felt like he was being replaced by him, even though he hadn’t met him. What if he was taking Louis’ place with Zayn and Niall? He felt sad.  
  
 _“Oh, he’s a guy in Niall’s biology class. They’d been working on a project together and Niall said that he’s a really nice guy. I thought we could invite him with us to dinner and a movie at the cinema after? I mean, new friends are always cool.”_  
  
Louis felt skeptical. He’d many times tried to let people in in his life, but it had never worked out. Not after what happened. He cringed, clenched his eyes shut. No, Louis couldn’t do that. He couldn’t let anyone in. Zayn and Niall were a total other thing because he knew them before stuff happened. They’d always been there by his side, even though they still were unknowing of the lump of sadness Louis carried around inside his chest.  
  
“Well, I hope you have fun.” Louis decided to answer. He was not coming along. He wanted to stay home in his bed, maybe cut some more to punish himself for the way he looked.  
  
 _“Shut up, Lou, you’re coming with us. Whether you want it or not. You need to go outside, it’s not good for someone to isolate themselves like you do. I promise it’ll be fun. Liam even said he will be bringing one of his friends along, perhaps you and him will become good friends? It’s worth a try. C’mon.”_ Zayn was on the verge of begging by the time he’d finished his speech.  
  
Louis sat silent for a minute, just thinking. He definitely didn’t want to bring new people into his life because what if they would hurt him? Leave him in a cold corner and never speak to him again? He knew that people couldn’t like him, even less love him. Love wasn’t real, it was just some made up word which shows absolutely no meaning. Louis would not let anyone in, he wouldn’t.  
  
He didn’t know what made him give the answer he gave, but he hung up right after his quiet ‘okay’. Then he fell backwards in his bed, crying.  
  
Louis didn’t do much the rest of the day. He stayed in bed and he continued to cry while he continued to cut his thigh with one of the razor blades which he’d bought an entire package with a while back. He doesn’t really remember when he started with self-harm. He does remember that he found himself scratching his wrist after Charlie, mostly to distract himself and to get rid of the anxiety which were floating like a bubble in his chest. The scratching wasn’t enough though, just like he wasn’t. It didn’t take long before he’d found himself with a knife from one of the drawers in his kitchen. He’d always made sure to be careful, he just couldn’t risk that Zayn or Niall found out. It’d be the end of his relief.  
  
The doorbell rang as soon as Louis had given up with trying to style his hair nicely in the bathroom. It was a mess and Louis was pissed because he never managed to look decent, no matter how hard he fucking tried. Instead, he sighed and went to open the door where Zayn and Niall were stood, dressed nicely and as always looking beautiful. Louis felt so jealous.  
  
“So you managed to get up from bed, Lou, that’s great!” Zayn and Niall laughed, and even though it was meant as a joke, Louis felt sad.  
  
“Fuck off you two,” He muttered and grabbed his Vans and put them on. He then grabbed his jeans jacket and put it on before he turned the lights off in the hall and asked if the others were ready to go. They both nodded so Louis led them out and locked the door. Leaving the safety behind him.  
  
They took a cab to where Zayn and Niall had decided that they would be meeting the Liam guy and his friend. The trip didn’t take too long, but it was enough for Louis’ anxiety to grow. He missed his bed and he missed his razor blade. God, he didn’t belong here. He wanted to go home and stay alone because he wasn’t made to trust people.  
  
They arrived at the restaurant at 5:30 so they walked to their table which Zayn had booked and waited for Liam to arrive, in company with his friend.  
  
It didn’t take long time before the door to restaurant opened and in walked two handsome men. Louis couldn’t see much because the lights were dimmed but he could see that they both were tall and dressed in nice suits. The two boys started to walk closer when they saw which table the group were sitting, and that’s when Louis saw it.  
  
One of the boys were none other than Harry.  
  
Louis felt how his hands started to sweat, he could feel the blood draining from his brain and instead dropping down to his feet, making him starting to shake. Because why, why the hell did it have to be Harry? Louis tried to control his breathing and tried to not pant like someone who had run a marathon as the two boys came closer and closer.  
  
Louis would be lying if he said that he hadn’t been thinking of the boy since they met two weeks ago. Louis had been thinking of him a lot, the way he sounded so worried when he’d found the bloody towel on the floor in Louis’ bathroom. The way he’d looked so sad when Louis had told him to leave. And the way he so many times had ended up cutting himself because he just couldn’t stop thinking of those brown curls. He wanted to forget the boy, he never wanted to see him again. Why had he even come into his life from the very beginning? Louis didn’t want him there. The bubble was too small.  
  
“Sorry we’re a bit late, Harry here spilled coffee on his shirt so he had to change it.” Liam gave Harry a glare and then smiled towards Louis, Zayn and Niall.  
  
“No worries, we just arrived anyway. Take a seat, boys.” Niall gestured towards the two empty chairs. One of them being beside Louis. He could feel how his heart nearly jumped out of his chest when Harry sat down beside him, Liam sitting down between Harry and Niall.  
  
Louis looked down at the table and started playing with the flowers which were seated in a vase upon the round table. He could smell Harry’s cologne and the way warmth was radiating off him. Louis clenched his eyes shut and tried to fight off the need to flee away from this place. He just wanted to go home.  
  
The others had already started a conversation, while Harry was just sat beside Louis, not saying a word, just like him. He did offer a smile sometimes when one of the boys said something funny though, but Louis, yeah Louis just continued to stare down at the table.  
  
A waitress soon appeared at their table, asking if they were ready to order. Louis wasn’t hungry, even though he hadn’t had breakfast and only eaten a sandwich for lunch. He simply ordered a salad. The waitress of course had to flirt a bit with Harry before she was able, and Harry was left flustered. Louis knew he was straight and now it was also quite obvious that he was a real ladies’ man as well. Louis hated those kind of people.  
  
Conversations carried on as they waited for their food to arrive and honestly, Louis didn’t show much interest. Until of course they started talking with Harry.  
  
“So Harry, do you go to our school?” Zayn asked and tied his fingers together while looking at the curly haired boy.  
  
Harry shook his head, to get out of his daze, Louis guessed, “Yeah, I do. I believe that you haven’t seen me around though. I’m currently 19, turned 19 this year actually so I’m in the same college as you, but y’know, I’m a sophomore.” Harry sounded so proud when he said this, and that made Louis roll his eyes.  
  
“Ah, I see. Liam, you’re the same age as us, am I right?” Zayn turned to Liam.  
  
“Yeah, turned 21 this August. The 29th, was a great party that one.” Liam laughed a bit as well as the others, while Louis continued to stare at the four other boys, or well, not so much at Harry.  
  
The waitress soon came back with their food and put down their plates. Everyone thanked her with a smile, while Louis just murmured a quiet ‘thank you’. They quickly dug in, while Louis stared at them all, a bit disgusted by the way they were eating like they hadn’t had food in over a week. Louis himself, carefully picked up his fork and started to touch the salad with it, while frowning. He really didn’t want to eat.  
  
“Something wrong?”  
  
Louis looked up, just to meet Harry’s green eyes looking at him. Louis quickly looked down at his plate again. He could not make eye contact with Harry. Harry obviously thought he was ugly, he didn’t want to see his face. He probably didn’t even want Louis here.  
  
“Suit yourself,” Louis snapped.  
  
He didn’t have to look at Harry to know that he was smirking. Louis chose to ignore him though. Harry wasn’t worth his time.  
  
“You’re a saucy little one.” Harry smiled.  
  
“I am not ‘saucy’ and neither am I ‘a little one’.” Louis had started to grow irritated. Who the hell did Harry think he was as he said these kind of stuff? He had no right to even open his mouth in Louis’ direction. Louis already loathed the guy, even though they had only spent an hour together.  
  
Harry laughed and then continued to eat his food, while Louis continued to play with the salad with his fork. A long time didn’t pass by before Zayn spoke up.  
  
“Lou, why aren’t you eating?”  
  
Louis quickly tried to come up with a lie, because he couldn’t say that he didn’t deserve to eat. Even less say that he hated his body, was disgusted by it and that he hated the fact that everyone was beautiful and he wasn’t.  
  
“I’m just not hungry. I ate earlier.” That became his answer, before he stayed quiet for the rest of the dinner.  
They soon found themselves in the cinema, waiting for the movie to start. Louis hadn’t bothered to find out which movie they were watching. It wasn’t interesting to him. He had just sat down and before someone other from the group had time to sit down beside him, Harry’s bum was already covering the seat beside him. Louis sighed and rested his chin in his palm. He didn’t want to sit next to Harry. He hated Harry. Mostly because he was so beautiful, but he would never admit that though. Barely even to himself.  
  
The movie soon started and Louis found himself drifting away into his own world. He wasn’t listening to anything in the movie because it just wasn’t interesting to him. Nothing ever was interesting. Or maybe the blade which was hidden in his nightstand at home. Louis missed the blood.  
  
Louis was so caught up in his own thoughts so he didn’t even realise that the movie was over. Zayn tapped his shoulder, so he got up from his seat and followed the others out from the cinema. Harry walking in front of him.  
  
It was later that night when he was holding the blade against his skin that he received a message. He put the blade down and grabbed his phone.  
  
_Hello, it’s Harry. I got your number from Zayn. Tonight was fun, hope to see you soon. I hope you make sure to eat breakfast, because you didn’t seem so interested in your food... Anyway, I hope you’re okay. (:_  
  
Louis was gonna fucking kill Zayn Malik.


End file.
